The western sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1887-1926, 1887-08-25
A MOUNTAIN MARRIAGE.
How THE BRAVE WIN THE FAIR
INTHE WILDS OF WILKES.
The Unpoetic Nature Of Some Noun
taineers and the Hopelessness of Ig-
noranee

| OF
The Unpoetic Nature of Some Noun
taineers and the Hopelessness of Ig-
| norance.
| j. W. Hays in State Chronicle.
One halt of the world, we frequent
ly hear, knows not how the other hall
| lives. Wealth is not often Poverty
guest, and Lazarus at the rich mans
door had but faint idea of his table,
the picture. to the contrary notwith-
standing. Lounging in cool verandas,
we read in the latest novel perhaps OF
poverty and want, but the real life is
far away. Would you know what it
is? Then come into the hills and
spend month in some log cabin, with
its daubed, unsightly walls, its creak-
ing puncheon floor, with its dirty table
and tin ware, and rickety chairs. Eat
the fried hogs meat till nature rebels,
then subsist awhile on black bread
aud boiled beans. See the man loaf
about with his dogs, complaining
of hard times, while the woman spins
and cooks and tolls, and the squalid
children grow hollow-eyed and de-
praved.
"The merchant charges so high for
his CLOTH he says, "youuns will hav e
ter make me some clothes"
So he takes his gun and strolls out
to shoot squirrels, while the weary
woman sits at the loom. Tread, tread,
tread, back and forward the shut tile
flies. A baby is there, fretful cry
ing baby always, bread must be cook
ed, the garden patch worked and
when he comes in supper must be
ready. And then you will hear him
complain that "wimmen are gitten
so lazy an trifin' now'd days you can't
git nothin' out O. en- At thirty old
age is upon these women. They wrinkle
and shrivel, grow toothless and yellow,
till in their hideousness death is loath
to lay his finger upon them, and the
grave stands open and empty for half
century. The curse of the garden
land of onrs is laziness. Did the men
work half so hard as the women the
mountain country would blossom like
Eden.
"Why don't you plant more corn 2"
/ asked of man whose acres were
thousands.
"Wa-a-l," said he, "ef plant mo-
corn ! don't have no time ter hunt.
"Raise hogs and have no need 70
hunt"
Not hunt He stood in amazement.
Not hunt! Why then exist? What
other motive could life hold! Corn
at that moment was in demand at one
dollar a bushel
With laziness and poverty comes
ignorance. 1t rests upon this land
like Egyptian darkness, palpable,
with weight, sitting, deadening. Think
of whole families where not one can
read or write bis name. What's the
use? Making your mark does just as
we'll in law, and the Squire can read
to you what's to be signed. Going to
school is too much labor for the end
in view. And as the father has lived
the son lives, and the sons son will
follow. Even in politics, where one
would suppose a ray cimmerian. In
Ashe the other day citizen insisted
that the President was elected by
Congressman.
"No by Electors" )"
''Waal now youuns may think so,
but l KNOW the Congressman meet
in Washington and elect him." And
to the last he insisted that my ''inter-
pretatson' was wrong, and even if
true elsewhere, IN Ashe they voted
for President through the Congress
man,
''Weuns elected Cleveland" not
uDfrequently we hear now. "Weuns
elected him because the dimmecrats
promised he'd take the tax often whis-
key, an he haint done it, an next
time we goin' ter vote agin him
an put republican, in.''
Is it any marvel that these people
look sad; that gloom and melancholy
rest everywhere as tho death were
in the house? Upon man and woman
and upon little children. Never
song or rippling laugh. The little
girls are solemn and deep eyed, with
the marks of care, and the idle III chin
trudges the highway without the mer-
ry whistling.
Ruskin observes the same in his
mountain travels, and attributes it to
awe inspired by the grandeur and
solemnity of mountain scenery. AS
tho these people wandering through
forest aisles grow silent as in some
vast cathedral, awed by the columns
and cloud-capped dome, while the red
light streaming and tinting wakes the
spirit of devotion and they
pause to listen at the murmer rising
like prayer from mystical shadows
and wait presently for the burst of an
anthem of praise, and all that sort of
thing. He dosn't say this, but I.reck-
on its the idea, could his pages of in
terminable sentences be sifted. The
thought is very pretty and Ruskin
ish. But wait moment
"Come out !'' / called to my host
one rare evening as the great masses
of fiirtip-ped rock loomed above the
black shadows, crimson and royal
purple, shading the eye from the daz-
zle of the yellow west and seeming to
reach after the light-streamers flung
to the zenith. Come out and see the
mountains" / called. He dragged
himself slowly out and stood and look
ed. while the golden streamers grew
red and the purpls glow faded into
shadaws. Till the evening star swung
out in the twilight and the mountain
hung over the valley black
as the genius of night. Surely